One Hundred and Three Roccurem

It fascinated me that the two neighboring planets were so close to this one, their massive forms ghostly shadows hiding behind the veil of night. You would think that after seeing a thousand-plus worlds, I would be accustomed to all the wonders the universe had to offer, but it pleased me to know I could still be surprised. A bird made of night coasted through the window and landed on the table behind me. Nails tapped on the polished wood before silence fell.

“I witnessed it once, the future and how peace could be attained. Dianna is a flame that will spark a revolution,” I said, lifting the teacup to my lips.

“And?” asked the bird of night, the room growing a fraction colder.

“And now all I see is destruction and ruin. The laughter has faded, screams taking its place. I see fire to the West, a wasteland of the East, and . . . what changed?”

I moved away from the large window and sat at the circular table in the center of the room.

“Death of one.”

“So it is true, then?”

“For now.”

I poured a cup of tea and slipped it toward my kinsman before topping off my own. Darkness crawled from every corner of this room, entrapping the bird before manifesting its massive self in the seat before me. The worn and tattered suit he wore was riddled with bullet holes, and his hair stuck to his head in a red smear. His taut pale skin pulled tight as if it were an ill-fitting mask. One of the Formless Ones, the most ancient, and he preferred to wear the forms of those who had passed his gates.

“I’ve come for a reason, kinsman.” Death carefully picked up the fragile cup and took a sip.

My fingers tapped lightly against the arm of the chair. “If you have come for the boy, I fear it would be a fight. She is quite protective of him, and he of her.”

Death’s pale, dead eyes fixed on me as he lowered his teacup. I knew he hated to be cheated, and that was exactly what Dianna had done.

“No one escapes me.” His voice was reminiscent of the hollow void we all came from. “I will have them both in the end. Make no mistake.”

“I am aware. I have seen that, too.” It had been a strange experience to watch them both perish. I was certain that if I had been in a body that permitted emotion, I would have felt that sadness. “What I am unaware of is why. Why bring him back? Risk it? Barter her soul in exchange for his life?”

“You have seen the end. You have seen several, kinsman.” Death scoffed as if even thinking about admitting what he was about to annoyed him. “The opposite was far more damaging.”

“Destruction.”

Death only leaned back as he agreed. “Annihilation. You had but a fraction of it on Onuna.”

“You fear her?”

“We all should. Dianna is no longer the promised princess of Rashearim or the destined queen. The other sibling has polluted her blood. What she carries within her now could turn worlds to ash if she willed it. You all should fear her as they once feared Ro’Vikiin.”

I chuckled. “You know as well as I that he hated that name. He always preferred Gathrriel.”

“It does not matter what he prefers. His blood lives in this realm once more.”

I sat up straighter. “And it has come to pass again. That’s the shift. Every being in this realm and the next felt that spark once more.”

“Right, you are. The witches feel it, your moirai, the beings with no legs, and ones with too many. Every. Single. One.”

“Is this why my vision has changed? Because of her?”

“No.” Death folded its cold hands upon his lap. “Because of them. The brother has slaughtered his blood. It seems to be a repeat of the family tradition, but have no fear. I plan to correct it.”

I raised my teacup. “And so Death intervenes, as does fate.”

“Intervene suggests I stopped the inevitable. I did not. I merely saw a loophole, but I would not worry about the rules of this existence much longer, kinsman. If Nismera wins, if they return, there will be nothing left of any of us.”

My hand tightened on the cup. Had he seen the same tragic ending I had? A murky pit giving birth to beings long forgotten. I stilled, needing the answer to my next question. “What of her soul?”

Death tilted his head toward me. “That’s what worries you? Not the return, but her soul?”

I said nothing.

“Soul?” Death tsked. “The fractured thing it is. It’s a jagged, crushed thing, the remnants buried within him.”

My back straightened, and Death caught it. My mind whirled. I had not seen that outcome either.

“Her soul is in Samkiel?”

“What is left of it. Two beings in one. It seems Samkiel was strong enough to bear it,” Death said and sipped his tea.

Mortals felt fear and anxiety. Beings such as us did not, but I could not deny the feelings that rushed through me. It may sound like a good thing that Death had found a way for them to survive, and I knew there would be a cost. I just never expected it to be so ghastly.

I took another drink of my cold tea, trying to calm the unfamiliar emotions clouding my mind. “But how did you do this?”

Death raised a brow and shook his head, a small, rueful smirk quirking his lips. “I have no power over Samkiel. I never did. Dianna brought him back. She didn’t know it at the time, but she used the power of that mark. Without even realizing what she was doing, she did the reverse of what Vvive did. She forfeited the mark for the power to split her soul, and then she tied it to his life. Dianna resurrected Samkiel. As much as I hated being bested, it was both terrifying and intriguing to witness something that has only happened once before. The love she has for him is a power.”

“How?” I gasped out, never having expected this.

“Love has power. We have both witnessed empires rise and fall for it. And the love that Dianna has for him is a power. Just like Vvive’s.”

“But Dianna laughs, breathes, and loves. She is not just flesh and—”

“And she is void. As was Ro’Vikiin, a soulless, empty monster,” Death interrupted and then paused. “My apologies. I mean, Gathrriel was void before Vvive. He died on that battlefield, and when Vvive split her soul to save him, the mark formed. Samkiel dies, and Dianna, refusing to accept that reality, absorbs the power of her mark and merges the pieces of her soul that his passing hadn’t shredded. She left herself empty. She is Gathrriel once more.”

“Her anger, feedings . . .”

“All of it.” Death tilted his bloody, bruised head. “I would make sure they stay close to one another if I were you. If there is too much separating, the body realizes it’s void. It tries to revert to its most basic, primal urges.”

“That’s why she is okay with Samkiel.” I swallowed. “She knows.”

“More or less,” Death said. “Some primal instinct knows that her soul lies within him, her true morality.”

My chest grew tight as if I had a heart to feel it. I had not seen this in any reality. This was one of the few times an action or thought surpassed the timeline souls were destined to stay on. Perhaps I could not see it since it was decided after Nismera had ripped into me. If fear could touch even the Formless Ones, it placed its hand upon me now.

Death studied me, sipping at his tea. “You seem frightened, Roccurem. Perhaps you have walked amongst the living for far too long. Their emotions are sticky things, attaching themselves to everyone around them as they weep, laugh, and moan.”

“What happens to her if she dies?” I asked the next question that weighed heavily on my mind.

Death placed his teacup down between us, the cold in the room growing. “If she dies now, her body fades to nothing, but you already know that, don’t you?” Death said, his anticipation obvious. I couldn’t help but wonder what he had planned for her.

“That may be a problem, given Samkiel would destroy you if you tried to take that girl.”

The laugh that left Death’s lips made even my form crawl. “I do not fear the God King. I have collected several. Even the greatest powers have limits, and he will pass as the rulers before him have. No one escapes me. So, no, the boy does not worry me. Besides, time is my counterpart. It fades the pain I inflict until those who are used to me welcome me as a friend. I am infinite, and he will mourn and move on. They all do.”

I shook my head and folded my hands across my midsection. “You, like so many others, underestimate his love for her. You just got through telling me that her love for him is a power, but do not think it is not reciprocated wholeheartedly. The mark may be gone, but they were made for each other. You will drive him mad.”

“Unir carried the same love for his beloved. Did he strike the skies to embers looking for me? No, because he knew—”

I placed my cup down, the sound cutting him off as I folded my hands in my lap. “Samkiel is not his father.”

“Perhaps not, but I have seen him love thousands. He will love a thousand more.”

“We both know that was not love.”

“Love. Bed.” Death waved his cold, pale hand. “What is the difference to the ones who bear flesh and blood? You have witnessed it, too. Only you believe those grand gestures and words. How many have you seen slain in the name of this love? We both know my kingdom is filled with those once in love.”

“And how many have been born from it?” I questioned. “What of the sacrifices they make in the name of it? Those also show up at your door. I have witnessed that, too. Those who never recover from that lost love mourn until they are reunited. Or the ghosts who beg at your gates, screaming for one last glimpse at the ones they left behind. Do you deny it?”

Death’s darkness mantled behind him, hating the mere challenge. Ice formed on the glass windows and spread across the floor. “Are you truly willing to bet countless worlds and lives on that? We both know how quickly a heart, even as pure as his, can change. How many heroes have fallen since the beginning of time, and how many realms have suffered for it? Do you truly wish to ruin the last bit of hope any of us have in this realm or the next by testing that?”

The cold receded a fraction, and Death folded his pale, bruised hands, completely unbothered by the consequences he threatened to unleash by permanently taking her away from Samkiel. Death watched me with a crooked smile.

“You’re enjoying this?” Worry swamped me. “Because she threatened you? You are happy with her having no eternal peace.”

“You blame me as if I took her soul. As if I am holding it hostage.” Death placed a hand on the table, the stone beneath cracking from the burning cold.

“We both know your power, kinsman.”

Death tapped his skeletal fingers on the table, the lifeless eyes of the man who crossed his gates staring back at me, but Death did not scare me. He, along with others, came into existence when the universe was born, and even with our ancient quarrels, we were bound in ways mortals and deities could never understand.

Finally, Death leaned back, interlacing his fingers. “You think that threat she made in those tunnels was an idle one? You witnessed what she did on Onuna over a sister who was not even blood. Now, imagine what she would do for her mate, the one created for her. She would have no tether, no moral compass, no love. So do not look at me that way. If I truly wanted the end of the world, I would have fought her there for the God King. Nismera will leave the realms desolate if she gets her way and succeeds with the Great Return. So I did what I must. Dianna, as you all call her, was meant to rule. Do you think she was meant to be Ig’Morruthen? He, a living corpse? No, Nismera interfered. She spread lies and deception through the House of Unir, and it worked. She gathered and honed her power for eons, and now we must interfere. I do not wish to witness another War of Wars.”

The air grew thicker. “It will not matter once Samkiel finds out about her fate. That is what he will focus on, the war be damned. She is all he sees. He loves her, truly loves her.”

“How bothersome.” Death tapped his fingers once more. “You are no better. You care for the child. You always have. We’ve seen it. You have a father’s love for her. It’s immoral. You are above emotions.”

“Ah, merciless Death, who cares for nothing and no one.” The corner of my lip raised. “In my long existence, it is nice to find something worth protecting.”

Death did not falter or move, but something shifted across those hollow, dead eyes.

I crossed one leg over the other. “You know I will not keep this from her. She has been betrayed enough in her long life.”

The darkness in the room seemed to quiver in irritation before settling near his frame.

“Just as you are aware that I collect a little part of everyone who passes through my gates, yes?” He picked up his cup and drained the last of his tea before setting it back down. “Dianna was kind enough to send me Alistair.”

Realization slapped the air from the room.

“You would not dare.”

“I would dare.” Death rose, adjusting the bullet-riddled jacket he wore. “So, kinsman, you will not remember this, but know I do want the new world, and I will help you attain it. That I can promise you.”

Darkness swelled and then faded. I shivered, cold seeping across the room. I sat up straighter, blinking as I glanced toward the window. Had I left it open? The candles flickered atop the nearby mantle, and music filled the air. I shook my head, rubbing at my temples. Ever since Nismera’s light burned, my visions had been scattered and incoherent. I was becoming increasingly afraid she had damaged me on a level so deep I may not recover.

A knock sounded at the door before it slowly cracked open.

“Reggie?” Miska called, her voice a whisper as she stepped into the room. She must have been working late in the greenery Samkiel had made for her. It wasn’t anything like what Jade City had, but she was making it her own. Her nightshirt was littered with small bits of herbs. Miska loved all the clothes Dianna had asked Samkiel to make for her. She had never been allowed her own personal attire before.

“Yes, Miska?”

“Who were you talking to?”

I glanced around the room, wondering if I had missed something. “No one. I haven’t spoken to anyone but you tonight. I must have mumbled a vision. My apologies.”

She shrugged one shoulder. “It’s fine, it happens. Do you want to try the new tonic I made? I think I got the ingredients right this time.”

“Why are you up so late working? It’s well past midnight.”

“I couldn’t sleep. It’s freezing in here, and it keeps storming, so I figured, why not work?”

A smile formed on my lips as I rose. “Well then, let us try your new tonic, shall we?”

I never said anything about her failed attempts. Miska worked hard, trying to remember what she had learned and what her mother had taught her. She was already such a powerful healer, yet she had only just begun.

“Perfect.” She waved her hands in the air in pure excitement. “I’m trying to target the pain receptors associated with burns for Cameron. His back is pretty bad, but Dianna said he’d heal once he got his feeding better under control because godly burns are worse, especially in his Ig’Morruthen form, and . . .” Her voice stopped as her eyes caught on something behind me. “Why is your tea frozen? Did you leave a window open?”

I frowned, perplexed. “Perhaps. I’m not sure.”